Of Night Skies And Broken Hearts
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: Because they know that the odds are against them, yet they don't care. GideonMarlene for Kerr.


_For Kerr because I really, _really_ want her to get better soon._

_& also for the story contest on the Can we find 1 million harry potter fans? on facebook._

_**I don't own anything because I'm not JKR. Last time I checked, at least.**_

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They both know there's almost no chance that they'll both live through this war, that the likelihood that _either_ of them shall survive is low enough without both of them attempting to survive. They're on the losing side, the side that is slowly being picked apart by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the resistance that seems to be losing impact more and more each day.

They're the Order of the Phoenix, the resistance to the darkness that is slowly beginning to crumble due to a lack of belief in themselves; even the golden ones are beginning to loose faith in their end goal – and all Gideon can think is that if James Potter thinks they have no hope, they _have _no hope.

They're falling apart at the seams, destroyed from within by the bitter whisperings of regret and the pain from when their fellow fighters are lost, but then there's _them_.

Marlene sits on the steps of the secret hideout they've charmed to be one of their final lines of defence against Voldemort and buries her head in her hands, the tears leaking through the gaps in her fingers. The steady stream of silvery rivulets creates a series of streaks along her ivory coloured skin, a colour almost growing paler by the day.

Gideon stands on the top step, looking down at the hunched over, fragile woman who used to be so strong, so domineering. _He_ looked up to _her_ for advice, for a role model on how to get through this war alive – she had always been the strongest of all the Aurors involved, the brightest, the smartest, the one who could always put the smile back on someone's face.

Yet sometime in the past three or four years, her spark has dulled, dimmed to the point where he's concerned that it's going to burn out altogether, the end of the beacon of light within their group. The vibrancy that used to radiate from Marlene in waves has almost disappeared as he looks down at her, almost as if he's observing a different person.

He aches for the person she used to be – for the person _he_ used to be. He wants them to go back to their Hogwarts days, the days that were carefree compared to now. He wants to go back to when they had the chance to sit by the water's edge, Marlene in his arms, and just be able to appreciate the chance that they had to be together, to experience happiness.

Now, the war is draining it all from them, reducing them to shadows of their former selves, and he can't remember the last time he was _truly_ happy. He can't remember the last moment of exhilaration he had, the last time he's not had to worry about something, some_one_…

…they're dying from the inside out and it's irreversible – a cancer.

"Hey," he murmurs as he sits down next to Marlene, their closeness more for the fact that they couldn't get by without one another now, rather than what they had both wanted. Wars destroy lives; wars destroy the plans people make for the future…

The war destroyed Gideon and Marlene.

She looks up and manages a half-smile, wiping the tears away with her left hand as her right one slips into his, as always. "Hey," she replies, none of her prior feistiness at being interrupted.

"They found her," he whispers gravely, looking down as he feels the ripples of anger and melancholy once again spread out and diffuse around them.

"Where?" is all Marlene can ask in regards to her now deceased best friend, Dorcas Meadows, the one word cutting through the air like a knife. And now Gideon can see the spark of Marlene that's still inside, the one roused to the surface when she loses someone closer to her than almost anyone, the anger that spreads through her like a storm surge.

"Down by the river in Stratford," Gideon tells her, looking up to see the grim expression of defiance on Marlene's face.

"She was _there_?" she confirms, once again spitting the words out. "Jesus, what was she doing there?"

Silence reigns as Gideon has no response, this action merely angering Marlene to the point where she rips her hand from his and stands up, facing the cool night sky. It's ebony black without a hint of relief anywhere across the distance, the brightness from the stars dimmed and ineffective against the colossal power against them. They're suppressed into the background, bright points almost unwanted beneath the murky cover of domination and all she can do is compare it to how they're being picked off, one by one.

…until, soon, there'll be none of them left. Like the stars, they'll become isolated, disappearing before their very eyes, until the point when they decide enough is enough, that to face Voldemort is certain death.

"She didn't deserve to die; _none_ of them did," she growls, balling her hands into fists. "Why are we fighting, Gideon? We're all going to die in this war if we keep fighting a losing battle; we're going to die painlessly and pointlessly for nothing. You know that," by the end, her voice is filled with melancholy, the anger now merely a hard edge to her tone.

He shakes his head and smiles ever so slightly as he moves to stand next to her. He's so much taller than her and as she stands beside him, he gets a sudden jolt of remembrance back to when her head would rest on his chest as they stood to look at the stars.

"You're wrong," he tells her straight, watching as an almost cliché happens – the cloud cover seems to dispel slightly, leaving the flickering stars to glow a little brighter. "So long as we have something to believe in, something to fight _for_, there's always a purpose. Nobody signed up for this so that they could be the hero and die; we all thought there was – there _is_ – a chance we can destroy Voldemort without us all perishing. So have a little faith in us, Marlene. After all, _we're_ still here, aren't we?"

He smiles ever so slightly as she turns back to him, her expression torn between agreeing with him and wanting to argue back. "I just miss how things used to be," she sighs, suddenly launching herself into his arms. "I miss how we were _supposed_ to be, you know? We'd have been great if we got the chance, you know," she manages a half-hearted smile and he reciprocates it wistfully.

"We would have, I know," he nods and somehow finds her in his arms, clinging to him for all that they're worth because this is the only place she truly feels safe – in his arms. He's her safe haven, the person who she knows will do everything he can to protect her because he _loves_ her; he always has and he always will, something she knows because of her love for him.

He leans over and presses his lips to hers softly for the first time in three years, yet it doesn't feel like it. They slot right back to how they were before, like a lock and key, and it feels so _right_.

Everything that's worried them floats away as they are locked within their embrace, worries cut away as they rediscover the well of strength they have within themselves that can only be discovered by the other.

Marlene pulls away first, a small smile on her lips that gradually fades away into nothingness. "That was…nice," she says, yet doesn't let him go.

"The odds are against us, Marlene," he acts as if he hasn't heard her as he speaks, returning to the conversation before. "We've got almost no chance of us both making it through these next months – because who knows how long this war shall go on for?"

"Wait…aren't you repeating what _I_ was saying before but you told me to be more positive?" her eyes narrow as she surveys Gideon's face, trying to understand what he means.

"Yes and no," he replies. "I agree that there's almost no chance of us getting through this, but not that there's no point. We joined Dumbledore because we felt that this would give us a chance to get our world back. We _have_ a purpose doing this. We just need to fight.

"Marlene, promise me that if I die, you'll carry on fighting – both for you _and_ for me. Promise that you won't give up and you'll fight till the very end, till your last breath, if it comes to it," the sense of urgency in his voice is palpable, deepening the already serious mood.

"I promise," she's short and to the point with it because, truly, she doesn't think that it's going to make a difference. She's going to die, he's going to die – it doesn't make a difference if she continues to fight or not because the end result shall always be the same.

"Good," he nods slowly and his arm slides around her waist. It's a peaceful night, still and close, slightly uncomfortable yet there's no enemy attack so all they do is sit down and talk.

They talk about the past, talk about their times at Hogwarts and know that it's useless to discuss a future because they're not going to be there to share it with one another – if _either_ of them – so they decide to cover their past again.

And again.

And again.

Finally, morning dawns and they're done talking, being sat together is enough. The tinges of pink begin to gradually creep across the sky and it brings a day of fresh opportunities, of renewed hope…

…of death.

~x~

He cradles her body in his arms, the fragility of her corpse impossible for him to comprehend; she may have been hunched over last night, yet she was never like _this_.

Her long, blonde hair hangs over his arm and tickles the bare skin on his leg as the tears cascade down his cheeks, unable to be stemmed as he realises that she's dead, that Marlene's dead and she's never going to come back.

_She was right_, he thinks bitterly as they sit together in the darkened room, nobody daring to enter because they know that he's lost the woman he loves. _If we never fought, she'd be here right now_.

It's not the attitude to have but he's irrational and he can't think of anything other than the fact that she could have saved them, that if they had walked away last night, she wouldn't have gone back to her family today. She wouldn't have been there when Voldemort found them; she wouldn't have been there when they were outnumbered and decimated.

It's selfish thinking but he can't think rationally now she's not here – she's physically here, but he can't see the brilliance only she had, can't see the potential inside of her that only he could unlock.

He's a lock without a key; she's a key that's been discarded into the wilderness without a care, an empty remnant of what used to be someone so bright.

All Gideon wants to do is to give up, to accept that she was right all along and that he can't live without her so his asking her to live without him was hypocritical, all lies. Yet he can't because he _promised_ her and he can't not go down without a fight. He promised he would fight to the bitter end, fight till his last breath, and that's what he's going to do.

~x~

Death Eaters outnumber Gideon and Fabian, five to two, but they don't care because they're strong and they have the strength of three – the two of them and Marlene, because Gideon can't accept that she's gone.

So he ducks and he rolls and he fights with all he bloody has because he doesn't want to let her down; he doesn't want to be the hero but he wants to get rid of as many Death Eaters as he can if he's going down.

He wants to have made a difference to this war, to not have been just another wasted fighter, a body discarded to the side because nobody cares enough.

And so, with that thought, he advances towards the nearest Death Eater, breaking the defensive pattern he and Fabian could probably win through because he doesn't want to be alone anymore; he wants to give it all he's got – all _they've_ got – and then accept whatever follows.

After all, worst case scenario is that he's back with Marlene – and that's not bad whatsoever.

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_Vicky xx_


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